I want to ride my bicycle.

I have been wanting to go for my morning bike ride along the seawall for some time, but the weather has just not been co-operating lately.

The weather prophets had predicted rain again for this morning, but their timing was off and the anticipated storm system had not arrived by the time I crawled out of bed, so I decided I would get my ride in this morning.

It was a little cool as I set out for the seawall, and I could tell from the thickness of the air that there would be a good deal of fog on the beach. As I drew closer I could hear the roar of the waves, which at the distance I was from the seawall meant “big water”.

The Gulf of Mexico is an interesting body of water. Sometimes it is as still, & flat as a placid lake with barely a ripple at the beaches edge. And then other times, the tide is high and the waves roar & crash in a chaotic & boisterous display. Every time I approach the seawall I wonder what the water will be like, I am never disappointed.
This morning my ears were correct in gauging the size of the waves, as I turned the corner and beheld the Gulf it was “big”. People that live here or that have spent a lot of time here know what that means. The sea level seems swollen and while Galveston waves don’t compare in size to West coast or Hawaiian waves, on days like this, they are big & powerful, roaring & sending spray high into the air as they break. One of the things I most like on days like this is the smell, the waves toss the smell of the sea salt into the air and it makes me want to take deep breaths absorbing all the nuances the ocean has brought this day.

Today it was salty & robust, there was nothing subtle about the fragrance. As I rode my bike up onto one of the paved jetties I could see the clever seagulls doing a dance with the big waves crashing over the end of the rocks. When a wave broke on the end of the jetty it would send a shallow river of water down the paved portion, so as the wave broke the seagulls would leap high enough to avoid getting drenched, but land quick enough to pick any sea critters out of the rivulet for a tasty meal.

As I sat perched on my bicycle there on that little jetty, I also watched the one lone surfer out this morning. He was getting a workout in the churning waves, but his labor was not without reward, he caught several very nice waves during the time I was there. I decided at some point while watching him riding the waves that this morning’s bike ride was not about cardio, or burning calories, it was about the sensual rewards this little sandbar offers.

I let myself just absorb what my eyes could see, what my ears could hear, what my nose could smell, what my mouth could taste, what my skin could feel.

I let it have its work in stilling my soul.

And then I rode my bicycle back home.